


Welcome to Level Seven - Agents of SHIELD fic collection

by agentsofsunnydale (Theblueeyedvampire)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Board Games, F/M, Gen, Parent Melinda May, Skyeward - Freeform, Team Bonding, Team Bus - Freeform, Team Fluff, Team as Family, Tumblr Prompt, partner yoga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-15 20:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11238240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theblueeyedvampire/pseuds/agentsofsunnydale
Summary: Tumblr prompts, drabbles, and other one-shots for Agents of SHIELD. Rating varies by chapter. Expect lots of fluffy Team Bus family feels and Skyeward.





	1. Chicken Noodle Soup (Mama May + Bus Kids)

**Author's Note:**

> Misc short fics based on various tumblr prompts or just random one-shot ideas. All chapters will have beginning notes explaining where they are set, the rating, ship/ships, and any changes from canon specific to that fic. Feel free to send me prompts anytime at [agentsofsunnydale](https://agentsofsunnydale.tumblr.com/)

Set early in season 1, after Ep 6: FZZT. Nobody is HYDRA. Rated G. This one turned out way longer than a drabble, but oh well!

**Chapter 1: Chicken Noodle Soup (Mama May + Bus Kids)**

The first time that Jemma sneezed, everyone was too caught up in how adorable and kitten-like she sounded to be actually concerned for her health. It wasn’t until after she’d sneezed three more times that hour that Coulson took note.

“No, no, I’m quite alright, sir,” she insisted despite her pale cheeks and reddening nose. “I’ve beat an alien virus. I can handle the common cold.”

“I’m sorry, Jemma,” Coulson sighed, “but we’ll have to keep you in quarantine until we know for sure. Fitz—”

On the other side of the lab, Fitz sneezed loudly into his elbow. Skye gave him a warning look and scooted her chair and laptop several feet away from him.

“You, too, I guess. Skye?” asked Coulson, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not sick!” she protested, but there was just a hint of a rasp to her voice.

“Not fooling anybody, Skye. You spend most of your time here with them.”

“Well, I spend the rest of my time training with Ward. You gonna quarantine him too?”

“If I have to.”

“I suppose if we’re all together it won’t be so bad,” Jemma smiled. “I’m sure we have sleeping bags in one of these compartments. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

Fitz and Skye turned to her with expressions of disbelief.

By the end of the day, it was clear to everyone else on the Bus that Jemma, Fitz, and Skye were miserable. All three of them had matching sweaty faces, runny noses, and hoarse throats. They were bundled up together like three lumpy, wretched burritos on the couch that Ward and Coulson had dragged down from the lounge and set up in the lab before they sealed it for quarantine. Even Skye’s suggestion of marathoning Disney movies to distract them didn’t make up for the aches and chills and piles of tissues that they were accumulating.

“Three sick kids,” Ward muttered at the command center monitor, which was tuned to the camera displaying the lab and its dejected occupants. “This is _precisely_ why I always work alone.”

“I need to get in touch with HQ,” said Coulson. “Let them know we’ll be out of commission until everyone’s healthy again. Why don’t you check our inventory, see if we have any more tissue boxes or vitamin tablets or something?”

“Yes, sir.”

Both of them looked back at the screen in time to watch Skye sneeze loudly, and Fitz reached across Jemma to pass her the box of tissues. Wincing in sympathy, the two men parted ways – Ward heading for the supply caches, Coulson walking in the direction of his office. But he stopped half-way up the spiral staircase, hearing noises from the galley. Walking back down, he peeked around the corner.

“May? What are you doing?”

May didn’t look up from the carrots, ginger, and green onion she was dicing with swift, efficient strokes of a rather large kitchen knife.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Phil?”

Lifting the cutting board, she dumped the finely sliced vegetables into a pot on the stove.

“You’re… cooking.”

“Chicken noodle soup. Old family recipe.”

He took a few steps into the galley and inhaled the delicious scent of the chicken broth and vegetables.

“That’s kinda sweet of you.”

To his surprise, May scoffed under her breath. “This isn’t sentimental. You can’t expect anyone to get better on the plane food we usually eat around here. Those kids need something wholesome.”

Coulson smiled. “Right. Sure. Anything I can do to help?”

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, May pointed at a drawer. “Take the bowls, spoons, and napkins down to them. I’ll be right there.” She added a tablespoon of soy sauce to the pot and stirred the contents.

Staying out of her way as much as he could, Coulson opened the drawer she had indicated and retrieved three sets of bowls and spoons, along with several napkins from the container on the galley island. He carried everything downstairs to the cargo hold and deposited the lot into the air-tight box that allowed the safe transfer of items to the quarantined area.

“What’s that for?” sniffled Skye.

“It’s… a surprise,” he shrugged.

“Sir, we’re in no fit state for any surprises,” Jemma mumbled, handing the tissue box back to Fitz.

“Trust me. You’ll like this one,” he reassured them.

A few moments later, footsteps sounded on the catwalk above, and May appeared on the spiral stairs, the large pot of soup in her hands. The delicious smell wafted everywhere as she crossed the cargo hold to the glass doors of the lab and fit the pot into the transfer box. Skye and Fitz-Simmons stared in total bewilderment.

“You can cook?” Fitz asked, breaking the surprised silence. Jemma swatted his hand.

“You cooked for _us_?” said Skye, equally stunned.

“Can’t have you three delaying us from our next mission,” May replied with a shrug. “Eat up, before it gets cold.”

She didn’t stay to watch the three of them extract themselves from their cocoons of blankets and sleeping bags and make a mad dash for the soup, but Coulson caught her smiling as she headed back up the spiral stairs.


	2. Beginner's Luck (Skyeward)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Skyeward + “Teach me how to play?” (from [this set](https://agentsofsunnydale.tumblr.com/post/161980004790/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)) Thanks to the fabulous [orlissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orlissa) for sending the prompt! Also, I upped the rating to T for a teensy bit of language.

Set between S1 and S2 in a happy world where Ward was never HYDRA and he’s still Skye’s S.O., and they haven’t made moves on each other since their smooch in the closet during “Turn, Turn, Turn”, as unlikely as that scenario would be, lol. Takes place at the Playground. Rated G/T.

**Chapter 2: Beginner’s Luck (Skyeward)**

Grant Ward didn’t trust these mercenaries that Coulson had recruited, but with S.H.I.E.L.D. trying to rebuild itself from the ashes that HYDRA had left behind, they had little choice but to welcome the likes of Lance Hunter to their team. He tried to tell himself it was all about the Brit’s excessive drinking and lack of team commitment or discipline and had nothing to do with how often Hunter seemed to be finding excuses to spend time with Skye.

When Director Coulson took him to task about being more friendly with their team’s new additions, Ward reluctantly approached Hunter, Trip, and Skye while they chatted at the kitchen island. Skye and Trip gave him matching looks of relief as he approached. Apparently, Hunter was on another one of his tirades regarding his she-devil ex-wife.

“Hey, Ward,” Skye grinned, offering him a beer. He took it, returning the smile as he popped the cap.

“Boss-man have a new mission for us?” asked Hunter. “Saw you go up to his office. Looked serious.”

“No, nothing yet,” he shrugged. “We can relax for now.”

“Relax? You?” Skye teased. “I didn’t think that was part of your programming.”

“I can relax,” he protested. “What about that time we played Battleship?”

“You mean the time I _beat_ you at Battleship?”

“Right. If we’d gotten to play another game, I would have crushed you, Rookie. Make no mistake.”

“We had, like, six months on that place, and you never brought it up again. I thought I bruised your ego too badly.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ward saw Hunter glance between the two of them, likely trying to figure out the history he was clearly missing. Trip rolled his eyes, giving Ward a ‘ _here we go again’_ look.

“Hey, I’m up for a rematch anytime,” he challenged her.

“You’re on, Super Spy.”

Setting down her beer, Skye crossed into the common room to the bookshelf against the brick wall, where they had stored their board games from the Bus.

“Oh, I get it now,” said Hunter, giving Ward a friendly tap on the shoulder with his beer bottle.

“Get what?” Ward asked warily, while Trip snickered under his breath.

Hunter nodded toward Skye and replied in a whisper, “Why you’ve been a bit of an arse to me, mate. I didn’t realize you fancied her.”

“I…” He glanced at Skye, but thankfully she seemed too occupied with searching the games to have heard the merc’s comment.

“Didn’t think I had a chance anyway,” Hunter shrugged, taking another tip of beer. “We’ll leave you to it, then, shall we?”

“Betcha ten bucks that she’s the one to make the first move, though,” Trip chuckled. With a wink at Ward, he followed Hunter out of the kitchen.

Clearing his throat, Ward carried his and Skye’s drinks into the lounge just as she emerged from behind the couch, frustration on her face.

“I can’t find it. You didn’t take it, did you?” she demanded suspiciously.

“No, I’m not that petty. Must’ve gotten lost one of the times our plane was attacked. Any other good games down there?”

She shrugged and dove back behind the couch. “There’s… Stratego. I’ve heard that’s fun. Never played it, though.”

“Seriously? You’ve never played Stratego? That’s one of the best strategy games there is.”

“Why didn’t we play it instead of Battleship?” she asked, rising with the box in hand.

“It wasn’t a practical game to play on the plane,” Ward shrugged. “Too many loose pieces that could have slid everywhere if we changed course.”

“Well, no time like the present. Teach me how to play?” she asked, smiling. “Please?”

How could he resist that smile?

“Sure.” He took the box, set the lid aside, and spread the board out on the coffee table between them. “Okay. Think of Stratego as… Battleship meets Chess.”

“Except with bombs?” she asked curiously, holding up one of the labeled pieces.

“Yeah, there are bombs. We’ll get to that.”

“Cool.”

_A few hours later…_

Ward sat there, blinking in complete shock as Skye moved her level-nine piece into the square occupied by his flag.

“Nine,” she said dutifully, even though he already knew the piece’s rank, seeing as how she had methodically pillaged her way across the board.

He bit his lip and grumbled, “Flag.”

Skye’s eyebrows rocketed up. “That’s it? I won?”

“Beginner’s luck,” he scowled, slouching more deeply into his couch.

“Ha!” Skye shimmied her shoulders in a little dance. “I beat you. _Again_.”

“This gloating thing? Not very attractive.” _As if anything could make Skye less attractive._

“C’mon, Ward, don’t be a sore loser. I’ll play again if you want to give it another go.” She stood up from the couch and sauntered over to him, grinning. “Or we could go a few rounds on the matts, if you’ve got some frustration to burn.”

“Maybe I do,” he said, standing up and towering over her. He hadn’t realized she was standing _quite_ so close.

“Yeah?” she teased.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go, then. But first the _loser_ has to clean up the game.”

And before he could reply, she stretched up on her tiptoes, planted her mouth squarely on his, and dashed away, practically skipping. Ward stared after her, momentarily frozen, lips slightly parted. Then, as if spurred on by a sudden jolt of caffeine, he began piling the Stratego pieces haphazardly into the box, completely uncaring about the hell of a disorganized mess he was leaving for the next people who decided to play the game. Stuffing on the lid, he shoved the box onto the shelf and jogged out of the common room after Skye.

Standing behind a column on the far side of the room, Hunter grudgingly handed Trip a ten dollar bill.


	3. Bangs and a Beard (Skyeward)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Season two is a little hairy-er."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Skyeward + "You weren't supposed to laugh! I'm so embarrassed." Submitted by the glorious [ stargazerdaisy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/pseuds/stargazerdaisy).

Set between S1 and S2. Ward was never HYDRA. For purposes of this drabble, assume he has just returned to the Playground after a solo mission that left no time for sleep or shaving. Rated T.

**Chapter 3: Bangs and a Beard (Skyeward)**

Opening the door to his quarters, Ward dumped his duffel bag on the floor and practically keeled over onto his bed, still fully dressed in his black tactical gear. He ran one hand over his scraggly face and realized what had been scruff almost two weeks ago was now a full-fledged beard. But he didn’t have the energy for a shower and a shave just now; those things would come after at least a couple hours of sleep.

Face half-buried in the pillow, he heard footsteps and a knock but didn’t bother to look up at whoever was tapping at the nearly closed door.

“Yo, my man!” said Trip. “Welcome back. Hey, dunno if you’ve noticed, but there’s a large furry creature growing on your face.”

“You’re one to talk,” groaned Ward. “God, I don’t think I’ve slept in a week. Go away.”

“Oh, so I guess that means I shouldn’t tell Skye you’re back, then,” Trip teased. “Won’t get any sleep at all.”

Despite his exhaustion, Ward grinned at the mention of her. “Skye’s here? Not still on her mission with May?”

“Nope, she got back three days ago.” Trip ducked back into the hallway and called out, “Hey! Skye! Your boyfriend’s home.”

“Oh, god. You didn’t tell him, did you?” said Skye’s voice from a distance, barely audible to Ward. But for some reason, he seemed to detect more than a hint of distress in her tone.

“Tell me what?”

Pushing himself up to a seated position, he faced the doorway just in time for Trip to press the door wide open and reveal Skye.

And she looked… different.

At first he couldn’t place it, just a vague _something different_ about her appearance. It wasn’t her makeup… or her clothing… her hair, maybe?

“You… got highlights?” he attempted, hoping he was in the ballpark.

Skye blinked back at him, while Trip bent double, howling with laughter. Frowning, she ran a hand through the hair cropped to the level of her eyebrows, tugging at it in frustration.

“Bangs, Ward. I got bangs. _And_ highlights, but that doesn’t matter.”

“Oh,” he said, still not fully understanding the dilemma.

“I was undercover as May’s daughter,” she mumbled. “Had to look the part. Shut up!” Scowling, she punched Trip in the upper arm while he continued to chortle hysterically. “You weren’t supposed to laugh! I’m so embarrassed. I hate them and they’ll take forever to grow back!”

Ward stood up, crossed to the door, and pulled Skye through the threshold into a one-armed hug, using the other hand to shove Trip out of the doorway.

“Thanks a lot,” he grumbled, shutting the door on his still-laughing fellow specialist. “Skye, babe, you look beautiful. Don’t listen to him.”

“It’s not just him! Hunter said I look like a tween!” she moaned into her hands.

“No, you don’t. They’re idiots. I promise.”

“Really?” She looked up at him with a skeptical pout.

“Really.”

Leaning down to her level, Ward pressed his lips to hers and felt her hand slide up into his hair at the nape of his neck, gripping and tugging. A second later, though, she pulled back, making a face.

“Ew, Grant, you’re so prickly. You feel like a porcupine.”

“Come on, isn’t that a double standard? You can make fun of my hair, but Trip can’t laugh at yours?”

“Nope, totally different,” she insisted, tilting her head to kiss the beard-free skin lower on his neck. She eyed his black tacticals. “Were you planning to sleep in that?”

He let out a groan that was half pure exhaustion and half arousal, resting his head onto her shoulder.

“Skye, you _know_ I want you, but I’ve slept maybe three hours out of the last seventy-two. I’m surprised I can string words together.”

She playfully pouted again, but then shrugged. “Fine. Sleep now. Sex later.”

With that, she shoved him backwards onto the bed, leaned down to unlace his combat boots and tug them off his feet, and then curled up beside him, head pillowed on his chest. Already nearly asleep, he rubbed his grizzled cheek against the top of her head.

“That tickles!” she squirmed, making him groan again.

“If I wasn’t about to pass out, I would definitely do something about that.”

“Is that a _threat_ , Agent Ward?” Her hand crept up toward his ear. “Remember, I know your weakness…”

“ _Sleep_ ,” he moaned insistently. “Torture me later.”


	4. Distraction (Skyeward)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a normal night at the Playground...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Skyeward + Kiss #19. Kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing.  
> Submitted by the glorious [ stargazerdaisy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/pseuds/stargazerdaisy).

Set between season 2 and 3, except Ward was never HYDRA and never left the team. Rated T/M.

**Chapter 4: Distraction (Skyeward)**

Daisy “Skye” Johnson was a competitive woman in general, but when it came to video games, she was downright ruthless. Whether it was racing games or Halo or whatever happened to be in the X-box that day, she had an unstoppable drive to win, at any cost. One by one, the team began finding excuses not to play with her until only Mack was brave enough to step up to the challenge.

One scorching summer night, Ward returned to the Playground to find the usual commotion in the common room, spectators crowded around the couch where Daisy and Mack sat, controllers in hand, vying for the top score of kills or headshots or whatever the ranking was based on. The devoted fans ranged from Agents Piper and Davis, to some of the science lab personnel, to Director Coulson himself, all sipping beers and letting out appreciative ooh’s and ahh’s at particularly skillful shots.

Approaching the huddle, Ward let his backpack thump to the floor and leaned against one of the room’s brick columns.

“How long have they been at it tonight?” he asked Bobbi, who stood at the fringe of the huddle looking like she was torn between interest and annoyance. Ward guessed that her ex-husband, current-partner was responsible for plying everyone in the group with alcohol.

“Three hours,” she shrugged, rolling her eyes.

“Tie game?”

“Neck and neck. Hunter and Davis keep egging them on.”

“Hmm.”

A smirk drawing up one corner of his mouth, Ward slipped between the onlookers until he stood behind the couch between Daisy and Mack. Resting on his elbows, he leaned over the back of the couch, nuzzled his face against her hair, and kissed the side of her neck.

“Hi, Skye.”

“Hey, babe.” Her tone was brusque. She didn’t even correct him for calling her ‘Skye’. “Little busy right now.”

“Oh, sorry, am I distracting you?” he grinned. Shamelessly, he ran his tongue up the side of her neck and tugged lightly at her earlobe with his teeth. The noise that Daisy let out was absolutely inappropriate for mixed company.

“Really?” Mack spluttered. He scooted slightly further away from Daisy on the couch, trying to remain concentrated on the game in spite of the flagrant PDA going on beside him.

“I need another drink,” said Hunter, standing up quickly and exiting the common room for the kitchen. He wasn’t the only one; several pink-faced staff members quickly made themselves scarce, and Director Coulson coughed and suddenly found the ceiling very interesting to stare at.

Still smirking, Ward pressed another kiss to the side of Daisy’s throat, tasting her skin.

“Thought you’d be happy to see me,” he said, feigning a sulking tone.

“Grant Douglas Ward, I swear, if you make me lose this game, I’m not having sex with you for a week,” she threatened, not bothering to use an inside voice.

“In that case, come on, give ‘er all you’ve got, Mack!” cheered Hunter from back in the kitchen. “Anything to spare us all from feeling the whole base shake every damn night.”

“T.M.I., hon,” Bobbi said with a wince.

“Oh, come off it, Bob. Everyone knows the quakes are thanks to these two shagging.”

“Well, _now_ they do.”

“Seriously, get a room,” chuckled Mack as Ward continued to run his lips up and down Daisy’s neck.

“After I _beat_ you,” Daisy insisted, picking off yet another creature in the game and yielding an explosion of confetti and fireworks on her screen.

“What is the point of this game again?” Ward whispered, lips barely parting from her skin as he spoke. “Wouldn’t you rather be somewhere else right now?”

“I want to _win_ ,” she grumbled. “So unless you want to sleep on this couch for the next—Yes!”

With a final kill, the game displayed a victory screen, the stats leaning conclusively in Daisy’s favor. The remaining onlookers dispersed fairly quickly after that, even Hunter, Mack, and Bobbi, leaving Daisy and Ward alone in the common room. She set the controller down on the coffee table with a sigh and turned to her boyfriend with a playful scowl.

“You’re lucky you’re so good looking, Robot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he smirked back at her. “Didn’t you say something about getting a room?”

She rolled her eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I guess the base is due for an earthquake sometime tonight.”


	5. Untidy (Skyeward)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Skyeward + Kiss #17. height difference kisses where one person has to bend down and the other is on their tippy toes.  
> Submitted by the awesome [ stargazerdaisy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/pseuds/stargazerdaisy).

Adapted from the scene in S1, Ep3: The Asset, except takes place after she’s been with the team for a while. “Training” derails into something very different. Because this scene just screamed sexual tension and I had to do something about it. No plot to be found here, nope. Rating M.

**Chapter 5: Untidy (Skyward)**

Face stoic, Ward extended his arm, pointing the plastic practice gun at Skye’s chest. His eyes, however, remained strictly on her face. She was impressed by his self-control… and determined to undermine it.

“Okay… like we’ve practiced. Take the gun away from me.”

She knew this move – had even used it on a mission thanks to his training – but toying with the ever-serious Agent Grant Ward was just too much fun to pass by. Face set in a playful smile, Skye reached for his wrist and spun, catching his gun arm over her right shoulder and thumping her back against his chest. Unlike the other times they’d practiced this, she bumped into him hard enough to make him let out a soft grunt. It was a nice sound, one that she wouldn’t mind hearing again. Maybe louder and huskier…

“Skye? What’s next?”

She smirked, wiggling slightly against him, and rested the back of her head on his shoulder… or rather, his chest, since he was so tall.

“I told you. Things are moving too quickly. I’m a proper southern girl.” She affected a lousy accent. “You’ll make me _untidy_.”

He sighed in disappointment that she wasn’t taking this seriously.

“Yeah, right. There’s nothing proper _or_ southern about you, Skye. If there were, you wouldn’t be grinding your ass into my groin.”

Well, there went her chances of being subtle, not that she had really been trying for subtle. She froze for a second before letting out an uneasy giggle.

“I thought that was part of the strategy,” she said, though the feeble excuse sounded lame even as she said it. “You know, trying to put you off your guard.”

He chuckled. “Trust me. It’d take more than that.”

“Really? Is that a challenge?” She swiveled her hips just a bit more strongly and could have sworn that she heard Ward catch his breath and then give a soft shudder.

“Skye…”

“Is that a spare gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“I’m your S.O.” His voice was definitely a little rougher than it had been a moment before.

“… So?”

“So this goes against every protocol in the book.”

Wait a second… did that mean he was resisting because of the _rules_ , not because he was interested?

“Does it make a difference if I mention I turned off the camera to the cargo hold?” she asked, rotating her hips in a slow clockwise circle, pressed against him. She hadn’t been _completely_ sure before, but by now the reaction in his body was unmistakable. He wanted her, and he wanted it _bad_.

“You…” His breath hitched mid-sentence, and he cleared his throat before starting again. “You planned this?”

“Maybe.”

She felt his free hand settle on her hip, seemingly torn between holding her in place and pushing her away. Ward let out a long exhale, his breath fluttering her hair, skimming her ear.

“Skye…”

“Oh, c’mon, Robot, live a little.”

Turning around in his arms, Skye hooked two fingers into his belt and used them to pull herself closer to him, shamelessly batting her eyelashes up at him. He neither stepped back nor made any attempt to stop her, just watched, as though he was uncertain if she would actually do it.

Determined, she looked from his eyes to his mouth and smiled, stretching up on her tiptoes. Her lips brushed feather-light against his, mainly because she couldn’t quite reach.

And he _finally_ responded, both arms catching her waist and lifting her up, toy gun forgotten and falling to the floor with a clatter. Victorious, she roped her arm around his neck to tug him down to her level and mashed her lips to his. A sinful groan rumbled through his chest.

The kiss went on and on, with Ward letting out exactly the sorts of noises Skye had been hoping to hear, the grunts and gasps that lit a fire deep in her belly. When she slipped her tongue into his mouth, his hands tightened, holding her even closer, almost raising her off her feet. She gasped against his mouth and felt his tongue in response, taking possession of her mouth until she was dizzy and breathless.

“Ward.”

Their lips parted only enough long for her to breathe his name before he was kissing her again, his mouth urgent, desperate, as though she’d unlocked something feral with her kisses. Of course, it probably served her right for the flagrant way she’d been teasing him for weeks, goading him at every opportunity.

And then his hands were under her butt, parting her thighs to wrap her legs around his waist. She gripped his firm shoulders, and his arms held her securely as he walked a half-dozen steps across the cargo hold. Reaching his target, he stopped and tipped her downward onto a somewhat flat surface.

“Oh god, Ward.”

Looking pleased by her gasps, he threaded his hands into her hair and kept kissing her like he needed her lips more than oxygen. Legs still around his waist, Skye rolled her hips against him and smirked when Ward let out a low curse.

“I’m going to hell.”

Skye snorted. “Oh, c’mon, Ward, it’s not like I’m underage or anything. We’re two consenting adults.”

“That’s not why I said that.”

“Why, then?”

Instead of responding, he kissed her ravenously again, a messy clash of lips and tongues and teeth, before dragging his lips down her jaw and nipping at her neck.

“Because,” and now _he_ was the one smirking, “I’m gonna fuck you on Coulson’s car.”


	6. Clean (Skyeward)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee and Showers and Skyeward, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Skyeward + Kiss 16. When one person’s face is scrunched up, and the other one kisses their lips/nose/forehead. Submitted by the exceedingly excellent [ stargazerdaisy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/pseuds/stargazerdaisy).

Set in early season 2, as SHIELD is trying to build itself back up from nothing. Ward wasn’t HYDRA. Rated M/E, contains smut but not graphic. If you think I should increase the whole story’s rating, let me know. Angsty, hurt/comfort… and then they bang (for those who begged for Skyeward smut after my last chapter left you hanging, hope you enjoy).

**Chapter 6: Clean (Skyeward)**

It had been a rough mission, four days and three nights following the mark. Ward, Trip, and their supporting agents had spent the last day-and-a-half underground, literally, no comms or outside contact whatsoever. The man they’d been sent to recruit or retrieve turned out to have HYDRA on speed-dial, and they’d lost two agents before the extraction team’s Quinjet could pull them out. Ward had taken two shots in his bullet-proof vest and was certain he could feel fresh bruises blossoming underneath on his ribcage. He was grimy, bloody, and grumpy, snapping at the slightest provocation.

Barely keeping it together, he sleep-talked all through his and Trip’s mission debrief, and when Director Coulson dismissed them he shuffled glumly to the kitchen, intending to see if there was any coffee left. But, as was his luck, he found the pot empty. Grudgingly, he set about preparing a fresh one, wearily digging through drawers in search of a coffee filter.

“Ward.”

He looked up at the voice. Skye stood in the kitchen doorway, dressed in one of her comfy sweaters, her head tilting as she watched him. At the sight of her, the anger and pent-up irritation in his system started to fizzle out, like a tub being drained of dirty water.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He managed an exhausted smile.

“Are you okay? What are you doing?”

“Getting some coffee,” Ward mumbled, still searching for the elusive filters.

“Grant… it’s almost midnight.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t been keeping track. “My body clock’s a bit jacked up, I guess.”

“No kidding. Babe, no offense, but you look like shit.”

He gave a half-hearted laugh that was cut short by a groan, one hand rising to his battered ribs.

“Grant! Are you hurt?”

“Just bruised. I’ll just have some coffee and get to work on these reports…”

She took the pot out of his hands and set it back on the coffeemaker.

“Nuh-uh. You don’t need coffee. You need a shower and a good night’s sleep. And by that I mean you are _not_ going to get up to work out at 5:30 in the morning. Come on.”

He didn’t bother trying to resist. Their fingers intertwining, he let Skye lead him out of the kitchen and along the Playground’s long hallway to their quarters. _Theirs_ , despite the judgmental looks they’d received from the Koenig brothers and other stiffs who harped on and on about protocols and fraternizing with fellow agents, particularly an S.O. and trainee couple. But Coulson had shot down their protests and granted them permission, knowing they were stronger together.

Gently pushing him inside, Skye shut the door and locked it behind her.

“Sit on the bed. Now.”

“Mm, I like it when you order me around, Rookie.” He cracked a weary smile and obeyed, letting his backpack fall to the floor at his side.

“Just try not to get any dirt on the bedspread.”

He caught Skye rolling her eyes as she walked past him into their attached bathroom, another major benefit of their shared quarters. Returning with a wet washcloth, she tipped his head up and started sponging the dried blood and grime from his hairline.

“I was so worried about you,” she muttered. “That last day, when you went off comms… I thought I was losing my mind. You scared the hell out of me.”

“We weren’t in much danger… until the asshole called HYDRA on us. Mm!”

She had started working at the straps of his tactical vest, and Ward hissed, face scrunching up with a pained wince.

“I’m sorry, babe. How bad is it?”

“Just bruising. Maybe a cracked rib.”

Moving more slowly, she loosened the buckles on the vest until it could slide easily over his head. He let out a long groan as it came off. Skye caught the hem of his black t-shirt and tugged that off as well, her concerned eyes immediately fixing on the two purple marks staining his chest, where the Kevlar had protected him from actually being shot but had nevertheless left an impact.

“Too close,” she whispered, fingertips tracing the bruises.

“For two members of our team, it _was_ too close,” he sighed, wincing again even though her touch was gentle.

With him sitting, she didn’t even have to stretch on her tip-toes to reach his face. Slowly, tenderly, Skye kissed his creased forehead, then his nose, then his cheek, sweet little caresses that made him almost forget his last several days of hardship. His frown of pain had vanished by the time she got to his lips, and he slid one hand up into her long brown hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. His other arm wound around her waist, pulling her closer, welcoming the familiar pressure of her body against his.

“Grant…” She pulled back after a long moment, grinning cheekily, breathing just as heavily as he was, “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but you really are filthy. Did you guys crawl through a tunnel?” To prove her point, she ran her hand through his hair and brought it away flecked with dirt.

“Sorry. There may have been a tunnel, yeah.”

“It’s okay. Just means we have to pick this back up in the shower.”

She crooked a finger at him, walking backwards into the bathroom and pulling off her sweater as she went. Ward smiled and bent over to unlace his combat boots. He heard the shower start running as he eased his sore feet out of his boots and socks and stood up, grimacing yet again. His body seemed determined to remind him how sore he was with every movement.

Until he crossed to the threshold of the bathroom and saw Skye, garbed in nothing but her underwear while she checked the water’s temperature, and the pain in his body as good as evaporated, replaced by scorching desire. He never got tired of looking at her.

She half-turned toward him, dark hair falling over her shoulder, a bewitching smile on her lips.

“You’re still wearing too many clothes for a shower, Agent Ward.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

She smirked at his breathless response and deliberately grazed her eyes up his half-naked body, hungry admiration in her gaze.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Super Spy. But there’s still dirt in your hair, so get in here.”

Eyes fixed on her, he unbuckled his belt and pushed both his black cargo pants and his boxers down his legs, almost stumbling in his haste. Skye smirked as she shucked off her underwear, checked the water’s temperature one more time, and slipped inside, holding the door open for him so he could stand more directly under the water.

As he stepped under the stream, he couldn’t help but groan deeply, the welcomed heat seeming to massage all the aches in his body. It was so refreshing and comforting that he almost crumpled into an exhausted heap on the shower floor. Or at least he would have, were it not for the tantalizing amount of Skye’s bare skin only inches away from him.

“Can you imagine if we tried to pull this off in one of the communal showers?” she asked, giggling.

“I’m sure somebody would get an accidental eye-full,” Ward agreed with a smirk.

“Duck.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re too tall. Duck down.”

He grinned and obeyed, bending low enough for her to apply her shampoo-covered hands to his head. She scratched and kneaded, working the soap into his hair, washing out all the blood and grime from his days on mission. His hands came to rest on her waist, only because he needed to keep them in a somewhat decent place while she scrubbed him down. It took all of his self-control not to gather her breasts in his hands or pull her body against his hard one. Instead, his thumb drew tiny circles against her hip bones, betraying his impatience.

“Skye, please…”

“Close your eyes, Grant.”

He complied, and she nudged him backwards so that the spray rinsed the suds from his hair and neck. She followed with a sponge down his body, rubbing his skin gently, taking care not to press too hard against his bruised chest. Ward moaned, his head drooping to rest on her shoulder, soapy rivulets trailing down his aching form.

“Want you,” he breathed, hands straying along her hips.

“In a minute,” she whispered, kissing his scruffy cheek. “Need to make sure you’re squeaky clean first.”

Ward grumbled an incoherent complaint and kept his eyes shut, hoping it would help him hold out against temptation as long as possible. Her hands flowed over him, and with each touch he got more eager.

“Mm, now you’re just teasing me,” he murmured when her hands scrubbed along his ass.

“Have to be _thorough_. If there’s one thing my S.O. taught me, it was to leave no stone unturned.”

At that, she nipped at his ear, and Ward lost what little restraint he had left. With a groan, he pressed her against the tiles, lifting her up to slot his hips between her thighs. Her arms locked around his neck, fingers combing through his hair.

“You missed me, huh?” she gasped against his ear, hooking one leg around his waist.

“God, yes, I missed you, Skye.”

“How much?”

Instead of answering, he slipped one hand between her thighs, parting her slick folds with a finger. Skye’s back arched, her leg tightening around him.

“What about you?” he purred, stroking her. “Did you miss me, babe? Hmm?”

“Yes! Yes, I missed you,” she gasped, grinding down against his hand. “Ward!”

Neither of them needed much more foreplay. She gripped his shoulders so he could raise her up, position himself, and slowly sink inside her, his lips finding hers as he slid home. For a moment he couldn’t move for fear it would be over too quickly, nearly seeing stars at just the feeling of being inside her. Then he felt the urgent grip of her nails in his back and started thrusting shallowly, their mingled moans echoing off the tile walls of the tiny shower.

The heat of the water, the desperation of her lips, her warmth around him… it was heaven compared to the hell of his last several days. He kissed his way down to her breasts, grinning as Skye clutched at his hair to pin him against her.

Ward knew her body well enough to feel when she was close, and he reached between them to rub circles against her clit. She came with a scream of his name, and after three more quick thrusts he tumbled over the edge after her, groaning against her lips. Knees rubbery, he carefully set her back on her feet and bent to kiss her smiling mouth, his hands cupping her face.

“Mmm, you did miss me,” she smirked.

“Hell, yes, I did.”

All of a sudden, they heard a heavy pounding against their bedroom door, the sound carrying easily to the bathroom since neither of them had bothered to close that door.

“Oi!” Hunter called out, audible even over the shower still streaming down on them. “If you two are done using up all the hot water in the base, would you mind keepin’ it down a notch? The rest of us are tryin’ to sleep!”

Skye snorted with laughter, resting her head against his chest. He didn’t even notice any residual soreness from his bruises.

“I guess we should sleep, too. Especially you. I’ll grab towels.”

Reluctant as he was to release her, Ward let her slip from his arms and exit the shower. He turned off the now lukewarm water and stepped out just in time for Skye to envelop him in a fluffy ivory towel, matching the one that already shrouded her. He patted himself down on the way to his bureau and drew out clean boxers for himself and one of his grey t-shirts for Skye. Tossing both of their towels over the rack, he flopped onto the bed and watched in a euphoric daze as she crawled in after him, cuddling up against his chest.

And if there was any dirt on the bedspread, neither of them noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes: There you have it, my first Skyeward steamy scene (pun absolutely intended). Hope it was worth it. :-)


	7. Moving in Sync (Skyeward)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye and Ward attempt partner yoga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Skye convinces Ward to try partner yoga.
> 
> Submitted by [ TriniTea](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TriniTea/pseuds/TriniTea). I used this website for reference for the positions: [ 8 partner yoga poses for friends and lovers](http://yoganonymous.com/8-partner-yoga-poses-for-friends-and-lovers).

Set in the summer between Season 2 and 3, assuming Ward wasn’t Hydra and didn’t leave the team, though May is still Skye’s S.O. at this point. Established Skyeward (technically Daisy/Ward). Rated T.

**Chapter 7: Moving in Sync (Skyeward)**

“How about… this one?”

Grinning ear to ear, Daisy swiveled her laptop around on the kitchen counter and showed Ward the picture of the couple’s position. His eyebrows rose in skepticism, and he took a slow sip of his coffee before responding.

“Looks… complicated.”

“Not for you, it wouldn’t be,” she snorted. “You’d be in Down Dog. That’s literally, like, one of the three most basic yoga poses ever.”

“Right…” He didn’t look reassured in the slightest. “And you’d be…” He looked at the example picture again. “Stretching backwards over my ass?”

She rolled her eyes, pulled her laptop back in front of her, and kept scrolling the yoga website. “It only sounds weird if you say it like that. The site says it’d give me a good front stretch. But… there aren’t instructions for this position like there are for the other ones. Huh.”

“What’s wrong with our usual warm-up?”

“I told you! May said that variety in exercise helps keep you from plateauing. Which,” she added smugly, “a certain _other_ person never told me when they were my S.O.”

Ward made an incoherent grumbling noise, half-obscured by his mug of coffee.

Daisy exhaled and bit her lip. Maybe she should have waited until he’d had at least one cup before she’d started making suggestions to shake up their exercise routine. But she was sick and tired of the same old, boring, ten-minutes of punching a bag, and May was still on her vacation until… who knew when, so she’d been training with Ward in the meantime. The sparing part was fun – they were almost evenly matched now, thanks to her intense exercises with May over the past year – and they usually ended with pretty intense make-out sessions, so long as no one else was in the gym at the time. Secretly, Daisy was hoping the ‘partner yoga’ would help them reach a new level of intimacy, to deepen their relationship _outside_ of the bedroom.

Determined, she reached over to trail her fingertips up his arm, fluttering her eyelashes in what she hoped was a seductive manner. With a little wheedling, she could hopefully get her man to do what she wanted.

“Come on, please? Just try it with me? If you _really_ don’t want to… I guess I could ask Mack or Hunter if—”

“Alright,” he conceded, lifting a hand in surrender. “Alright, I’ll do it. Let me put on something more comfortable. Meet you in the gym in ten?”

“Perfect. Thanks, babe.” Daisy smirked, stretched up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and closed her laptop, tucking it under her arm as she left the kitchen for the Playground’s gym.

Thankfully, no one else was there when she arrived – it was early enough in the morning that very few people were up and about in the base. She contemplated putting a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, except for the fact that such a sign would make someone like Hunter even _more_ likely to deliberately walk in on them in a… compromising position. She would just have to hope for the best.

Spreading out a yoga mat on top of the usual wrestling mats, she started some basic stretches and continued browsing the yoga site. The position she’d picked for them to try was definitely one of the harder ones, but considering their athleticism as well-trained S.H.I.E.L.D. field agents, she figured it would be easy once they got the hang of it. Hopefully…

Ward walked in wearing a snug grey t-shirt and black sweatpants, and for a moment Daisy was so distracted by his absolute gorgeousness that she forget why they were there in the first place. It was only the click of the shutting door that nudged her out of her daze.

“Ready?” she beamed.

“As ready as you’d expect,” he shrugged, toeing off his shoes and stepping over to the mat. “What do I do first?”

“Here.” She magnified the picture until it filled her laptop screen. “So… like I said, you’re in Down Dog, and—”

“Sk— _Daisy_ ,” he corrected himself with a little shake of his head, “I’ve never done yoga before. You may as well be speaking a foreign language. Although, technically, if you were speaking a common foreign language, I would be more likely to understand it.”

Daisy pursed her lips. She was no yoga expert, but it was a shock to discover something with which Ward was completely inexperienced.

“Well, it’s pretty easy. Stand at the edge of the mat here…” She guided him into place. “Now, you bend at the waist and walk out your hands until you’re getting a good hamstring stretch, then pedal your feet until it’s comfortable.”

Giving her a dubious glance, he folded over as instructed and walked his hands toward the front of the mat. She was very, _very_ tempted to run her hand over his firm ass or thighs, but she restrained herself.

“How does that feel?”

“Like I’m sticking my ass in the air for your entertainment.”

She smirked. “The _stretch_. Does it feel good? Can you hold it there?”

“I suppose.”

“Okay, good. Now I’m going to climb on top of you.”

Really wishing there were instructions for this part., she straddled his back, facing his head, leaned back until her back rested on his butt, and then tried to grab for her ankles. _Tried_ being the optimum word.

“Ow! Dammit, Skye, you kicked me in the face!”

“I didn’t mean to. Your face got in the way of my foot. And it’s _Daisy_ , remember?”

“I swear, _Daisy_ , kick me in the face again and I’ll stand up and drop you on your head.”

“Don’t you dare!” she hissed. “Sheesh, you have the easy part! We’re athletic people! This shouldn’t be this difficult for us.”

“Next time you say, ‘I want to try a new position I googled,’ I really hope you mean _in bed_ ,” Ward grumbled.

“Shh! I’m trying to concentrate.”

She waited until he stopped griping under his breath, then tried again, this time lifting her feet off the mat one by one. She successfully took hold of both of her ankles, inhaled deeply, and stretched back, letting her head droop down almost to the backs of his thighs.

“Okay… I’m good. You can shift your hips if you need to.”

Ward adjusted slightly beneath her, pedaling his feet again. She could feel the promised stretch from her stomach through her ribs. It felt good, if a little strange. The only drawback was the rush of blood to her head, and, of course, everyone was upside-down.

 _Everyone_?

“What in the hell?” said Mack from the doorway.

Ward swore loudly. His knees promptly buckled out of shock, Daisy landed on top of him, and Mack and Bobbi stood staring dumbstruck from the entrance to the gym. Then, in unison, the two newcomers bent double with bursts of laughter.

“It’s not funny,” Daisy pouted, rolling off of her irate boyfriend.

“It totally was,” Bobbi smirked, recovering enough composure to walk towards them and help them both up. “Let me guess… partner yoga?” she commented, glancing at the website on Daisy’s laptop.

“That was yoga?” Mack asked dubiously. “Man, I thought y’all were doin’ some weird… Twister sex thing.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Daisy groaned sarcastically, rubbing at her sore shins where she’d come down hard onto the mat. “Are you okay, babe?”

“Yeah, you didn’t damage anything but my pride,” Ward muttered.

“Sorry. Serves me right for trying the one with no instructions. Should’ve just stuck to something easy, like Boat Pose.” She shut her computer again with an impatient click.

“Who names these?” he demanded, reaching for his socks and shoes. “Down Dog? Boat Pose?”

“Tree Pose, Child’s Pose, Swan Dive, Mountain Pose, Warrior’s Pose…” Bobbi started listing some off on her fingers.

“Hey, wait, you’re giving up already?” Daisy rounded on Ward, noticing what he was doing just as he finished lacing his sneakers.

He jerked a thumb at Bobbi. “Could try with her. At least she seems to know what she’s talking about.”

“Sure, if you trade places with me and spot for Mack,” Bobbi shrugged.

“Fine.”

The deal struck, Ward crossed over to where the weight equipment was stored, and Mack sat, still chortling, on the dumbbell bench.

“’Kay, Rock Star,” Bobbi grinned, pulling off her shoes and re-opening Daisy’s laptop. “Let’s try this again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes: Started off Daisy/Ward and sort-of morphed into Daisy & Bobbi as it went along. Hope that was okay. I love the all Team Bus & Friends (Team Playground?) group friendship dynamics.


	8. Rage (Skyeward)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Skyeward + 11. When one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more.
> 
> Submitted by tumblr user klutzygirl. Thanks very much!

Set in Season 1 during Ep 8 “The Well”. Starts after Ward gets the staff infection… and then exits stage left from canon. Rated E. Spoiler alert: they bang. On the holo-table.

**Chapter 8: Rage (Skyeward)**

Skye climbed down the spiral staircase in the cargo hold almost timidly, hearing Ward’s knuckles make solid contact with the punching bag over and over again. Clearly, whatever the piece of the staff had done to him had… well, fucked him up was probably the best way to describe it.

His earbuds were in, and he was so single-mindedly focused on the punching bag that he didn’t even glance in Skye’s direction when she reached the cargo bay floor.

“Ward?” she asked, slightly scared of getting too close. “Hey, Ward!”

Reaching forward, she tapped him on the shoulder and barely leaned back in time to avoid the wild punch he swung at her.

“Whoa! Sheesh, take it easy!” she gasped, taking another wide step back.

For a moment, he looked almost remorseful that he’d nearly hit her, his whole body heaving with pants of exertion. Drops of sweat peppered his forehead, neck, and the visible parts of his arms where his sleeves were rolled up.

“You should be more careful,” he said gruffly, tugging out his earbuds and turning back to the bag.

“You didn’t even wrap your hands,” she mumbled.

Ward looked down at his hands, knuckles bleeding and calluses ripped open.

“Damn,” he exhaled, flexing his fingers. “Didn’t notice.”

“You are seriously not okay, Ward. Simmons said you need to calm down, not get more worked up.”

“What do they know?” Ward growled, throwing another bare-knuckled punch at the bag every few words. “Couple of book-smart kids… with their tablets… and their stupid sweater-vests… They would have been shot on Day One if I wasn’t there to save their asses. Yours too.”

Skye quailed at the look he shot at her, the rage boiling behind his eyes.

“I just want to help…”

“You _can’t_ help!” he shouted, gripping the bag and driving his knee up into it. “Nobody can help… Nobody…”

“Ward…” There was enough blood on his hands for her to smell it. “Grant, stop…”

“He almost drowned!”

Wheeling around, Ward took a startling step towards her, and Skye hopped back with a squeak of surprise, her back bumping against the glass doors of the lab.

“Your… your little brother?” she whispered, cringing slightly as she stared up into his sweaty face, inches from hers. “Do you… do you want to tell me—?”

“Christian nearly murdered Thomas that day,” Ward panted, almost leaning over her, one hand on the glass wall by her shoulder. “Pushed him down a well on the family grounds. And he made me _watch_.” His voice broke, a shudder coursing through his frame. “He wouldn’t let me save him. Said he would throw me in too. And I was too fucking scared to stand up to him.”

“You were just a kid.”

“I should have had the guts to do something… instead of just standing there like a coward until he was satisfied Thomas had been tortured enough. I should have protected him.”

Words failing her, Skye reached for him, sliding her arms around his strong, heaving chest. She felt the weight of his head against the top of hers, his breath ragged.

“Grant… it’s okay…”

Another tremor shook Ward’s body, and when he inhaled it almost sounded like a sob. To Skye’s immense surprise, he returned her embrace, his arms locking tightly around her, squeezing her against his chest.

She raised her head just as he lowered his, and the brush of their lips seemed almost accidental… so accidental that Skye stretched up on her tiptoes and repeated the fleeting kiss, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined the feeling the first time.

Ward just blinked at her, as though he too wasn’t quite certain it had actually happened.

“I’m sorry,” Skye whispered, suddenly realizing that he might not be thinking clearly in his addled state. Maybe he didn’t really want this. “Are you sure you—?”

His lips closed against hers before she could finish the question, urgent, passionate, his mouth forcing hers open to deepen the kiss. His hips pushed forward, pinning her against the lab’s door, and when that wasn’t close enough, he lifted her up – one arm about her waist, the other cupping her face. She locked her legs around his hips and ground herself against the hardening bulge in his jeans, fingers combing through his sweat-drenched hair and scratching the nape of his neck.

“Tell me to stop,” he gasped, kissing down her chin and nipping her throat, near-stumbling into the lab and seating her on a surface she realized a second later was the holo-table.

_Fitz-Simmons are gonna kill us if we break anything… but who cares?_

“No. Don’t stop.”

She tugged at his shirt until he got the hint and yanked it up and over his head, flinging it into a far corner. Her fingernails greedily traced the muscles of his abs, still tensed from his recent workout. She hadn’t even imagined a man could be this gorgeous, and he was still half-dressed.

He seized her denim shirt and ripped it open, sending buttons pinging to every corner of the lab space. Before she could even consider protesting, his mouth was back on hers and his hands had covered her breasts, squeezing over her bra and making her gasp. His every touch seemed to light her skin on fire, her heartbeat pounding like a base drum in her ears.

Her hands started fumbling with his belt, and he swore softly, his mouth muffled against her collarbone.

“Grant?” If they stopped now, she might literally explode.

“We can’t. I’m your S.O.”

 _Fuck that_. Defiantly, she reached down and cupped his erection through his jeans, and his hips surged forward at her touch, a groan rumbling in his chest.

“I don’t care. Screw protocol… and screw me.”

Skye let go of him so she could scramble out of her own pants and waited until his smoldering eyes were on her before shimmying out of her panties. It was a strange sort of rush, to feel such power over him.

“Grant? You still here?”

“Yeah.” His voice had a deeper, husky rumble to it. His hands slid up from her knees to her upper thighs, spreading her legs. She watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Are you tested?”

“Clean. You?”

“Yeah. Protection?” He glanced around desperately, and Skye giggled at the thought of innocent little Fitz-Simmons stashing condoms somewhere in the lab.

“Covered.” Simmons had given her a contraceptive shot as part of the medical exam on her first day. “Get in me.”

“First things first.”

Ward was on his knees before she had processed what he was saying, her thighs over his shoulders, forcing her to lay back on the table. His mouth closed on her, sucking hard on her clit, and her hips almost popped off the table entirely. She started to shriek but clapped one hand over her own mouth to somewhat muffle the sound, her other hand reaching down to weave her fingers through his hair and clench him to her.

He licked and lapped and savored like she was his favorite dessert, his tongue stroking circles on her clit, making her see stars. Her thighs batted his ears until he gripped her by the knees, keeping her spread out at his mercy. He growled, and the sound shot through her like lightning, uncontrollable trembling wracking her body. She came, screaming his name into the palm of her hand, her hips rolling against his face.

In her orgasmic daze she heard a clunk that must have been his belt hitting the floor. Ward stood, and Skye wrapped her still shuddering legs around his naked hips, clumsily shoving his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. She sucked his earlobe into her mouth, biting the flesh and eliciting a deep groan from him. Not to be outdone, he tugged down one cup of her bra and fastened his mouth on her nipple, drawing desperate whimpers from her throat and peppering her skin with goosebumps.

His weight pressed her down against the table, one hand between her legs, two fingers curling inside her. His sticky lips descended on hers, her taste hot and heady in his mouth. She wove her fingers through his hair again and kissed him back, gasping when his teeth worried at her lower lip.

“Skye, are you sure?”

He amazed her – even suffering the rage-filled effects of the staff, he was still offering her a chance to stop if she wasn’t ready. But she was sure. Truth be told, she’d been fantasizing about him ever since that first day on the Bus. _Reasonable and… firm…_

“Yes. I want this. Want you.”

Before he could say anything else, Skye slid her hand down the trail of hair below his navel and curled her fingers around his cock, pumping him slowly. Groaning, Ward gripped her hips in both hands, and she lined him up until her wetness coated his tip.

Slowly at first, he pressed into her, stretching her to fullness. She whimpered, back bowing beneath him, clutching him closer to her.

“More, Grant,” she begged breathlessly.

He must have been barely holding himself back. With a harsh grunt, he surged into her, her shrill gasps swallowed by his eager mouth. He gripped the opposite edge of the holo-table for leverage, his other hand still firm on her hip. She clung to his shoulder blades, nails scratching his flesh, and the table shook beneath them as he pumped into her. He was rough, but not too rough, filling her up with each steady thrust of his cock.

All too soon, her body clenched erratically around him, and seconds later he spilled into her. He collapsed atop her, panting heavily in her ear.

Skye was sure she would have finger-shaped bruises on her hips from how tightly he had been holding her, but that had easily been the best sex of her life.

“Mm, that was amazing.” She gently bit the skin between his neck and shoulder and then licked the spot, grinning when he moaned into her hair. “Damn, I feel sorry for anyone assigned to camera duty.”

*** S.H.I.E.L.D. ***

“Sir!”

Pink in the face, Fitz dashed across the command center to stop Coulson from going down to the cargo hold. Jemma ran after him, equally red.

“What?”

“You don’t want to go down there right now,” Fitz cautioned.

“Why not?”

“You see, sir…” Jemma began hesitantly, “it’s… about Ward and Skye.”

“What about them?” Coulson pressed.

“Well… they, um… we, um… saw them. Merely a glance, mind you.”

“Saw them doing _what_?”

“Desecrating our pristine workspace!” Fitz burst out, turning – if possible – even pinker.

Coulson blinked at the two of them for a moment before he abruptly caught on.

“Oh… I see.”

“I’m quite concerned that Ward might not be in his right mind due to the staff’s biochemical-altering effects,” mumbled Jemma, deeply chagrinned by the entire matter. “He was behaving aggressively earlier, exhibiting male-dominance behavior, high adrenaline…”

“So, you suspect Skye might be in danger from Ward right now?” said Coulson, raising a hand to stop her monologue.

Fitz and Jemma looked at each other, floundering at the question.

“Perhaps,” Jemma shrugged, right at the same time as Fitz said, “Don’t know.”

“Alright.” Before they could stop him, Coulson opened the door to the cargo hold and yelled out, “I’m coming down there in five minutes and I hope everyone’s dressed when I do.”

“ _Shit!_ ” said Skye’s voice from below, followed quickly by Ward muttering something about buttons.

Coulson promptly closed the cargo hold door again and turned back to Fitz and Simmons. He too was now slightly pink in the face.

“Well… I’ll be in my office.”

“What are we supposed to do about our lab?” spluttered Fitz as their commanding officer began to walk away. “It has to be sanitized! Thoroughly!”

“Bleach?”

“We can’t use _bleach_ on the holo-table!”

“That… was a detail I did not need to know,” said Coulson, clearing his throat. “I don’t know what you need to do. Just… take care of it.”

As he continued walking away, Jemma and Fitz heard clanging footsteps on the spiral staircase. Skye opened the door, sweaty hair sticking to her forehead, holding her shirt together.

“Hey… what’s up, guys?” she grinned. “Say, Jemma, can I borrow a shirt?”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, send me prompts anytime at [ agentsofsunnydale](https://agentsofsunnydale.tumblr.com). I’ve got some great ones to work on but I’m always accepting more.


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